As I descended into Courmayeur just before sunrise, doubt began to creep into my mind, what if my legs failed again, what if something happens…again? I deliberately slowed my pace down the steep dusty switchbacks, even though I felt pretty good, but also understanding that I had almost 60miles of mountains left. The DNF demons of 2013 still chased me, even on race day, but sometimes out of our greatest failures, come our biggest successes. So hang with me, as this is going to be a long one. If you’re curious about my ‘training’ for the 2015 UTMB see my previous blog.

Prerace

On August 19^th after a summer of playing in the mountains, admittedly with a much more relaxed attitude toward training than I’ve had in previous years, I hopped on an Iceland Air flight bound for Iceland, my first stopover enroute to the 2015 UTMB race. But this story actually starts in 2013, when I made my first trip to France to attempt the UTMB. The scene was the more energetic and stimulating than anything I’d ever been a part of (dwarfing Western States), the mountains were more dramatic than anything on the Hardrock course, and the field was by far the largest I’d ever run in (2400 runners). Admittedly my first trip to UTMB was overwhelming, I got caught up in a lot of the hype, and in the end I was handed my first ever DNF (at La Fouly, 110km) due to mechanical issues that ended up severely inflaming my left knee to the point I couldn’t bend it. That day has haunted me ever since, but in 2015 I was given a chance at redemption.

I’ve never been good at tapering. Pre-race play time in Iceland.

Pre-race I spent several rainy days running around the volcanoes and glaciers of Iceland, probably not the most physically restful thing I could have done, but traveling alone allows me to mentally recuperate and relax. It’s a beautifully diverse country, with great people and amazing scenery, I highly recommend a stopover if you get the chance. On Tuesday August 25^th I caught a flight to Geneva, Switzerland and made my way to Chamonix, because even though my race wouldn’t start until Friday, I wanted to see my good friend Chris off as he started his journey on the TDS course (120km sister race to UTMB). Wednesday morning I caught the bus over to Courmayeur with several friends, watched the TDS runners sprint off into the early morning light, then spent the rest of the morning eating croissants and enjoying Courmayeur, this was the only time I’d get a chance to enjoy the town in the daylight as both in 2013 and again in 2015 I’d roll through just before sunrise.

At race check-in along with our 2300+ closest friends.

Back in Chamonix the town was electric, most of the 5000+ runners (between OCC, CCC, TDS, UTMB) had arrived and many were milling about the downtown, the vendor expo and check-in. In some ways its complete chaos, but it’s also the most excitement and energy you’ll find at any Ultramaraton event, part of what makes it so special. I finally met up with my parents and several friends from Colorado and settled into our condo on the outskirts of town, just far enough from the madness. This year since I knew what to expect, my goal was to avoid much of the chaos downtown and to simply relax in the days before the race. Note, this is the first time I’ve EVER started a 100mile race more than once, every other race I’ve started and finished exactly once. Wednesday and Thursday went by fairly uneventfully, as Ryan, Amy and the entire household simply kicked back and relaxed. Finally Friday arrived, and after an early breakfast, some last minute gear organization, I laid down for a nap as UTMB doesn’t start until 6pm Chamonix time.

Team Colorado taking a little siesta before the afternoon start of UTMB. Photo by Kerwin Lee

All smiles, til we meet again back at in this same spot, hopefully as finishers. Photo by Kerwin Lee

The Start: Chaos, Excitement and Patients

Around 4:30pm we all rolled down to the start line where people were already lining up and a massive crowd was gathering. Ryan, Amy and I stood to the side in an effort to stay out of the sun (race forecast was for hot and sunny conditions throughout) and keep ourselves relaxed. Finally the 30 minute call went out, Ryan headed up to the elite runners bin at the front, while Amy and I began to squeeze our way into the massive crowd that was lining up behind the start line. Two years ago I’d started nearly 1200 people back, which made for a slow and frustrating first 8km, this year I’d resolved to push my way into the top 500 or so. The announcers roared over the PA, something in French, the crowd began to clap, and the gun went off sending all 2400 of us on our way. I slowly jogged through town, past the thousands of on lookers, eventually finding my way to the outskirts of Chamonix where I was able to open up the stride to a comfortable run on the gentle crush gravel downhill. 43min later I rolled into Les Houches (8km), quick but it felt pretty easy and comfortable, now I was in a good spot in the field (top 400). Two years ago the incredible energy of the start and early aid stations had me so amped up I blasted through the first 30km, this year I was resolved to just run my race, enjoy the scene, and to not worry what the other runners (most of whom went out too hard) were doing.

Start of the 2015 UTMB, runners streaming out of Chamonix. Photo by Kerwin Lee.

Sun setting as we climb the first hill to Le Delevret

Me arriving at Les Contamines, all systems go and plenty of smiles. Photo by Kerwin Lee

I popped out my poles and settled into a strong uphill hike toward Le Delevret, our first climb of the day. The climb went very smoothly, I stopped to take a few pictures of the sunset on the surrounding mountains, chatted with my new friend Kris from the UK, finally cresting the ski resort and hitting the steep grassy downhill into Saint-Gervais. Kris took off down the steep but runnable slope, I was somewhat hesitant, as the DNF of 2013 lingered in the back of my mind. Still I made it into Saint-Gervais about 28min ahead of schedule (2:27, 21km, 403rd). I briefly greeted my mom, grabbed some water and a snack and jogged off through town, high fiving dozens of kids along the way, because how could you not! As I jogged the rolling single track and gravel road up the valley toward Les Contamines, the final bit of daylight faded away, I kept my headlamp off as much as possible on the easy terrain, reaching Les Contamines feeling strong and energized (3:49, 30.7km, 319th). I walked into the crowded aid station, filled my water, grabbed a snack, all the while trying to find my parents in amongst the chaos. Finally my mom came sprinting through one of the gates, the aid workers had refused to let her in for some odd reason. We sat down at a picnic table as I refilled my Vfuel and trail mix stash and chatted about what I expected for the long night ahead, the next crew point would be Courmayeur in 47km! I gave my mom a sweaty hug, a quick pep talk to my friend Louis who was having a rough patch, and jogged off into the darkness.

Notre Dame de la Gorge may only be a check-point and a church, but they put on one heck of a party. Photo by Kerwin Lee

The Long Dark Road

I jogged my way up the valley, past the checkpoint at Notre Dame de la Gorge (really more like a party) and up into the black abyss. This would be our last major sign of civilization until Courmayeur, 8hours later. Again I snapped out the poles and settled into my fast hike. As I climbed toward La Balme the full moon rose from behind the mountains, illuminating the alpine terrain, so I switched off my headlamp choosing to move solely by moon light. I still hold that night running is an acquired skill, come join me for a BTR night run sometime and I’ll tell you all about it (Wed at 8:30p). As I neared the Col du Bonhomme I glanced back at the trail of headlamps winding up the valley and the aid stations far below, what a night. I soon reached the Refuge du Bonhomme, reracked my poles and began a moonlit descent (yes still no headlamp). I cruised into Les Chapieux (6:58, 49.4km, 222^nd) having passed almost 100 runners in 20km, many of them with my headlamp off (to their surprise).

View of the line of headlamps between Notre Dame and La Balme from just below the Col du Bonhomme.

The energy of the race had faded a little, but I was still feeling strong; so after downing some soup and a glass of coke I set out on the long haul to Lac Combal. As I climbed toward Col de la Seigne I again switched off my headlamp, enjoying some moonlit trail silence, soon finding myself cruising down toward Lac Combal. As I jogged down the hill I glanced to my left and noticed a line of headlamps leading toward a Col several hundred meters above me, and became very puzzled as I could see Lac Combal below, but it became apparent the route was taking us a different direction? I was starting to get sleepy, so figured the reason I didn’t remember this section was because I had done it at night. The climb to the Col des Pyramides Calcaires was a mix of muddy wet grass and loose talus, not very runnable, and the case of the sleepies that was setting in made it even more difficult. As we finally approached Lac Combal (10:00, 65.8km, 161^st) I was a little mentally beat, the section had taken me 30min longer than expected, I needed a recharge.

As I reloaded my water and browsed the aid station food I heard someone speaking English behind me, I turned around to see Jamil Coury walking into the aid station, he also looked a bit haggard. We briefly chatted as I stuffed my face with soup, coke and the most delicious cake I’d ever eaten (well it was at the time). As we set off along the dirt road toward the Arete du Mont-Favre a cold fog settled over us, blurring our headlamps into a dull white haze. On the climb out of the valley the fog broke and the beautiful starry night reintroduced herself, I was feeling a little sluggish, but still moving alright. As the steep climb finally gave way to another quad pounding descent, a small bit of doubt began to creep into my mind, as the 1300m descent into Courmayeur was my undoing 2years ago. As I descended the steep switchbacked trail into Courmayeur I definitely held back, knowing I was moving well enough, I figured I’d rather lose 5min than risk blowing up my legs again. I finally popped out of the trees and onto the cobblestone backstreets of Courmayeur just before dawn. I was very relieved to have the long crewless night behind me, as the sun always seems to bring me energy.

Arriving in Courmayeur after a long night in the mountains, still moving up the ranks. Photo by Kerwin Lee

The Heat is On

My parents (and Abby) were waiting at the Courmayeur Aid Station (12:09, 78.8km, 149^th), I restocked all my Vfuel and food, shed any unnecessary warm clothing and took fifteen minutes to eat and regroup. I could feel a little fatigue creeping into my muscles, but overall they felt exponentially better than two years ago, and much stronger. I again bid my parents farewell, as it would be another 40km until I’d see them again, and off up the hill toward Rifugio Bertone I went. I made quick work of the climb and was surprised to be greeted by Sage at the Aid Station, apparently he’d taken a bad fall, tried to limp on, but couldn’t do it so was waiting for a helicopter ride out. The section of trail from Bertone to Bonatti is one of my favorites on the course, a high alpine traverse with panoramic views of the Mt Blanc massive directly across the valley, what a way to start the morning. I cruised through Bonatti and Arnuva and again set out on another long climb toward the Grand Col Ferret, at 2537m our highest point along the course.

Early morning light near Rifugio Bertone, why I love this section.

View from Rifugio Bonatti, too bad I can’t stay a bit longer.

Finally atop the Grand Col Ferret, rough climb, but now I get to go downhill.

As I climbed into the warm morning sun my breathing became a bit labored, not in the bronchial constriction way, but more general pulmonary inflammation, or lung butter as we in the ultra world often call it. I slogged on up the hill, but could tell the climbs were going to be especially difficult the remainder of the race. When I finally reached the summit of the Grand Col Ferret I sat down for a moment to take stock of things, my legs felt pretty darn good (all things considered), but I was definitely having trouble taking a deeper breath on the uphills. Thankfully I knew that ahead lay nearly 20km of very runnable downhill so I decided to just let the legs roll and before I knew it I was at La Fouly (17:46, 110.1km, 100^th), in great spirits no less. My parents were originally hoping to check-in with me at La Fouly (not a crewable AS), but because of the bus timing and the pace I was running didn’t make it. So I refilled my water, soaked my head under the tap and pushed onward. It was now midday and the sun was baking us with its full force, not my ideal race conditions. As I wound my way down the valley and through several small hamlets I was ever so excited to see that each of them had a public spring fed fountain, so I continually topped off my water and drenched my head in an effort to keep cool, so far so good.

I oh so badly wanted to stop and go for a swim here, but ran on instead.

At last I reached the short steep climb up to Champex Lac, and my new running mate Alister (Canadian) and I forged ahead up the hot dusty switchbacks. About 2/3 of the way up we came across another spring fed fountain, which was key in refreshing me for the final leg of the long climb. As I neared the crowds waiting at Champex Lac I heard someone call my name, it was my friends Chris and Kate who had come out to cheer me on for the rest of the day, friends and family were just the lift I needed at that stage. In Champex Lac (19:56, 124.1km, 83^rd) I quickly changed my shoes, drank a bowl of cold salty soup broth and sponged off again. From the triage that lay around me in the Aid Station I could tell I was handling the heat better than most. After some quick advice from Chris on the last three climbs I bid my parents farewell, it would only be 10-20km between aid stops from now on and barring some major meltdown I had very high hopes of finishing, and finishing strong.

Finally at the top of the climb to La Giete, looking down into the Martigny Valley.

The climb to La Giete (formerly Bovine) was steep, rooty, rocky and dusty; and it sucked the life out of me. My breathing had worsened and I was slowed to what felt like an excruciatingly slow crawl. I hated watching people pass me by, not because I was losing places, but because it meant I was no longer moving as strongly as I knew my legs were capable of. All I could do was trudge on, finally cresting the top of the climb, we traverse through the herd of cattle and dropped into La Giete, were I was able to top off my water before the short but very steep descent to Trient. As I rolled out of the check point my breathing eased on the downhill and my legs had a surprising amount of quickness, so I pushed them a bit, making quick work of the incredibly steep descent and arriving in Trient right on schedule (23:22, 140.6km, 81^st). In the warm afternoon sun the crowds had returned and I fed off the energy. The aid stops had fallen into a routine now; restock Vfuel, refill water, sponge off, drink some cold soup, pound a glass of coke and jog on out of the AS.

Leaving Trient in pretty good spirits, two more climbs to go. Photo by Kerwin Lee

Crews waiting at the Vallorcine AS, Photo by Kerwin Lee

The penultimate climb up toward Catogne was short and steep, and while my pace suffered up the steep section I was able to muster an easy jog across the flat traverse at the top before again bombing my way down into Vallorcine. The sun was finally dropping low in the sky, temperatures were cooling off, and since I knew I was well hydrated I popped a couple of ibuprofen in hopes it would help alleviate some of my lung inflammation and congestion. The descent into Vallorcine was quite enjoyable, my legs felt ok and most importantly I knew there was only one more hill to climb before descending back to Chamonix, I could do this. As I rolled through the small town, the aid station was buzzing with crews and spectators (25:56, 150.9km, 87^th). I located my parents and instructed them that all I wanted was water, coke and a half dozen Vfuel, then I’d be off. I gave them one last hug good bye and started to walk out of the Aid Station when my friend Chris held up his glass of beer to cheers me and wish me good luck….oooo that looks really good. I made a B-line for him, asked if I could have a swig and after he obliged took a large gulp of the smooth and slightly chilled ale, just what I needed.

Chris and Kate running me into Vallorcine, its time to get this thing done. Photo by Kerwin Lee

The sun fades away as I enter night #2 on the trail, one climb to go.

I then promptly jogged off up the gentle climb toward the Col des Montets. Dominic Grossman and I leap frogged back and forth up to the base of the Col, where darkness set in, we crossed the road and shit got real, 600m of extremely rocky vertical in just a few kilometers. As we pounded our way up into the darkness I noticed my lungs were feeling a bit better, whether it was the ibuprofen or the cooling temperatures who knows, but I was able to keep pace. When we finally crested the top of the steep section my Canadian friend Alister pointed out a light far off in the distance, that was La Flegere, the final aid station, and boy did it look a lot further than 4km away. We jogged/hiked our way through the undulating traverse on some of the most technical terrain of the entire course, the legs and mind were tired, but Chamonix was near. At last only a short section of dirt road separated us from La Flegere and we both breathed a sigh of relief as we strolled into the last checkpoint of the race (28:41, 161.6km, 89^th). I filled one of my water bottles with water and the other with coke, it was time to get this done, so both Alister and I hammered out of the ski lodge down the dirt road toward Chamonix. The final descent is a mix of gravel jeep road, rooty and rocky single track and finally a little bit of pavement. We pushed a good pace through the technical sections and before I knew it the trees parted and we were at the ski lift on the edge of town. A huge smile cracked across my face, as all that was left was a few kilometers of pavement across town and I’d have my redemption. We wound our way through the streets, past a handful of on lookers who cheer us home (it was almost midnight after all), finally making a left turn onto the final ‘straight-away’. Neither of us slowed, but simply ran side by side past several hundred cheering spectators, finally spotting our crews waiting for us near the finish line. My Mom and Alistair’s friend joined us for the final 100ft through the finish chute and I made an emphatic leap across the finish line, it was done, the two year wait was over, I was a UTMB finisher.

Alister and I crossing the finish line at the 2015 UTMB. 86th overall in 29:37:38
I’ll upload a better photo once I get one.

The Colorado household goes 3 for 3, Ryan (9th), Me (86th), Amy (575th). Photo by Kerwin Lee

A few shared high fives, a hug and some photos were snapped. My mind didn’t care that it was nearly midnight, that my body had been awake for nearly 40hours, that I’d been running for 30hours, or that my legs were tired, stiff and sore, no, all it cared about was that I’d finished and the massive smile on my face made that evident to all. I chatted with all the friends who had come out to see me finish, even Ryan had limped his way down to the finish line to congratulate me (he’d finish many hours earlier in 9^th overall!). It was amazing to share that moment with everyone; family and crew, training partners, friends, supporters and the other several hundred brave souls who were still awake in the middle of the night awaiting the arrival of more runners. While the words in this report describe my experience, I still can’t fully put into words everything that the 2015 UTMB was for me; redemption, elation, sacrifice, perseverance and satisfaction. We don’t do 100mile races because they are easy; we do them because they push our limits, they test our strengths, they break us down and expose our weaknesses, but most of all they provide a rich diversity of experiences. A mere three days later I was back to running and hiking, my legs had never felt so good after a 100miler, cheers to a quick recovery and more adventure to come.

Post-race play time, Murren to Gimmelwald klettersteig, at least I wasn’t running.

Six days after finishing UTMB my legs felt way too good not to get out and enjoy Gindelwald and views of the Eiger.

A special thanks to my parents for crewing me into two nights and a full day, all my training partners for slogging out mountain miles with me (including the Rocky Mountain Runners), Adam Engel of Waldron’s Peak PT for helping fix the weaknesses that derailed my 2013 UTMB, Cindy Stonesmith for the training advice, and Vfuel for supporting my crazy ideas and keeping me consistently fueled. Video of my entire race experience is in the works, stay tuned

Endurance sports have always been rife with stories of physical and mental burnout, and because of the nature of the energy and time commitment it’s not something that is going to change. For many, the sport of ultramarathon running is about pushing your limits and challenging yourself, but how far is too far?

These trees are really big…..Taking a stroll through Muir Woods the day before the Miwok 100km.

Over the years I’m no different than others in that I’ve dealt with injuries of all sorts, mostly minor nags, some more major; sprained ankles, plantar fascitis, Achilles tendinitis, pulled muscles, 2x broken clavicles, weak glutes and knee issues. So far I’ve been methodical enough to work through these issues and mostly correct the underlying causes….except those darn glutes. It was quite a surprise to me that when my knee started to bug me after my last race (Mississippi50) my PT said it was because my glutes weren’t strong enough and my quadriceps and hips were too tight. But wait, hadn’t I been doing all these squats, deadlifts, and exercises to prevent this? So with the Miwok 100km only 7weeks away I was back to square one; limited running, pain management, lots of stretching/foam rolling and an hour of PT each day to retrain my muscles to fire properly, uggg. As I was spending an hour a day on the treadmill running at 10% (uphills didn’t bother my quad/knee), I began to wonder why am I actually doing all this? Do I ‘have to run’ or do I ‘want to run’?

Mmm poptarts and snickers, it’s go time for the Miwok 100km, 5/2/15.

Two weeks before Miwok I finally had a break through in my rehab thanks to Adam Engel at Waldron’s Peak and Ginna Ellis at Boulder Acusport, the pain in my quad/knee had been reduced to a dull ache when I ran and hiked and almost non-existent at other times. So after several weeks of so so training, including a lot hiking I was heading to California to run 100km and had no clue if my body would even hold up for that distance. Race day came and I felt pretty good that I would be able to finish, but how fast would be the question, given my sub-par training (45-50mi/week) and my balky quad. The race started in the foggy dark pre-dawn hours with a nice steep climb up the Dipsea trail to the Deer Creek fire road, the sound of bag pipes filling the early morning fog with an eerie song. I settled into a pretty casual pace for the first 10miles, leap frogging with a friend and just letting my body ease into the miles. After a quick stop through Muir Beach then Tennessee Valley I finally opened up the pace as we circled the Rodeo Valley, even running all the climbs and zipping by dozens of runners. While a little tight, my quad felt alright for the first 20miles, but I could tell that my fitness might catch-up with me at some point.

Arriving at Tennessee Valley the first time, 5/2/15.

Running the trail with views of the Golden Gate Bridge through the fog.

I hit Muir Beach #2 still feeling good, and in the 22miles since Muir Beach #1 having passed 52 other runners, there was hope for my race yet. Finally I hit the climb up to Cardiac, a 1500ft grind that was a sight for sore legs because it meant I got to power hike instead of run. The climb up toward Cardiac was going well, I picked up another five spots, but then the sun came out and I realized I’d left my second water bottle with my parents, and that was going to be a problem. After Cardiac I started to get a little hot, but the bigger issue was my stomach, around mm38 it turned sour, I felt bloated and nauseous, but I couldn’t throw up to empty it. So I hiked and slow shuffled along the sunny Coastal Trail all the way to the Bolinas AS where I was finally starting to feel a bit better. I drank some more water, had a glass of coke (bad idea) and some pretzels and took off along the runnable Bolinas ridge only to have my stomach turn again, reducing me to a fast walk. Soon my friend Katie caught up to me from behind and her brother Jon (in 6^th) was heading inbound from the out and back. It was good to see friends and lifted my spirits, but not my stomach.

Running the Pirates Cove trail in the fog around mile 26.

Tiny people. Running through the redwoods on a beautifully sunny California day.

My stomach finally started to settle right before the long descent to the Randall AS turn around, so I turned the legs over and pushed the pace a little. After a quick refuel and restock I went charging up the hill, running the 5-10% grade for the first 1/4mile, but finally relented back to a power hike. My mind began to wander to the trees, the flowers, and why I was in this location at all. I realized that I really didn’t want to hammer the last 12miles, that I didn’t care about my time (I would finish) and I didn’t care about my place. I just wanted to stroll along and enjoy the rest of the afternoon, even if my legs were capable of running faster. I danced my way through the redwoods, took pictures of the iris, lupine and poppies, and ate pizza at the Bolinas AS. I ran a little, walked a little, stopped a few times. Those last 12miles were the most enjoyable of the entire race. Next time you are feeling down during a race, take a moment to contemplate your surroundings, your purpose and the experience and rather than DNF, slow it down and enjoy your amazing surroundings and an accomplishment that few others are capable of, even if it’s slower than you’d hoped for.

Stomach back intact, running the hill out of the Randall AS.

Rolling hillsides, poppies and sunshine along the Coastal trail. A great place to take it easy and just cruise along.

I ran the final 2-3miles down the Matt Davis trail to the finish line, crossing in 12hours16min, slower than last year, slower than I was capable of, but what my mind and body wanted and needed on that day. My fire to race and compete seems to have disappeared, but not my love of long distance trail running and ultra distance adventures. The 2015 Miwok 100km was a beautiful and very enjoyable run, even if it wasn’t a good ‘race’ for me, and I highly recommend it to all ultra runners. But the question still remains, why am I out there running and hiking? I had originally gotten into the sport as a way to allow me to mountaineer and peak bag at a whole new level, much faster and much further. Lately I’ve been caught up in the whole competitive racing scene, and while fun every once and a while, I’m realizing it’s not what I crave. Some people thrive off running competition and hammering themselves and their peers on a daily basis. Me, I’d rather amble around the mountains for 20-60 miles taking pictures, exploring new places and just having a grand ole time. Most of the time my goal isn’t a time, isn’t a particular pace, it’s just to go out and to explore, adventure and expose myself to new experiences.

Myself, Katie (5th female) and Jon (6th overall) at the finish of the Miwok 100km.

I’ve decided to postpone some very ambitious plans I had schedule for June 2015, and instead am looking forward to getting outside to wander and explore some new things, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, but hopefully always with a smile on my face. I hope that you too can find what you need each time you head out the door, whether its for a walk around the neighborhood, a jog on trails or up a mountain, or for a climb. So whatever you do just remember it’s not just about the pain and suffering, it’s supposed to be fun. Special thanks to all those who have helped me through this ongoing process of figuring out what ails me; Adam Engel at Waldron’s Peak PT, Ginna Ellis at Boulder Acusport, Meggan Oliver, Cindy Stonesmith at Ultrarunner Training, Vfuel for keeping me energized and my parents and friends Katie and Jon for the fun time playing on the California coast.

Here’s an album with a whole bunch more of my photos from the 2015 Miwok 100k.

For the past three years, I’ve planned a trip down to the gulf coast of Mississippi to visit family and run the annual Mississippi50 race in Laurel (inland). Training for the 2015 race was going well, lots of hard trail miles on the abnormally warm and dry January Boulder trails mixed with twice a week weight training sessions, focused on strengthening glutes, hips, core and overall balance, had me feeling good about my prospects for a PR and another shot at a win, until…..

A little over a week out from the race I went to the race’s website to check the schedule and directions only to see the date “March 7^th” stamped in red lettering at the top. Wait a second, I thought it was on February 28^th, because that’s when I’d scheduled my flight and hotel, %$#@^%. I went into a panic, searching the facebook page, my race confirmation email, everything I could find said March 7^th. So I immediately started to look into rescheduling my trip, but the flight change on United (they suck) was going to run an additional $500-600, and my sister couldn’t change her vacation around, so I gave in that I was going out the weekend before to see family, and might just have to skip the race, despite all the training. 🙁

About half of the snow we received in late February 2015, it was the snowiest February on record in Boulder (>50″)

I continued to search every nearby city, finally I found a Frontier flight for $300 direct from Denver to New Orleans (2h drive) that would allow me to work a full day Friday, fly out, get a full nights sleep and run the race; now to procure a few rides and this just might happen. With only 10days until the race I found a friend willing to pick me up at the airport and give me a ride to the race, and my sister would pick me up after the race, then drive me back to the New Orleans airport Sunday, it was going to work out! Back to focusing on training, tapering and just enjoying time with the family.

A little dry trail running in Mississippi the weekend before the race.

As luck would have it, Boulder got completely snowed under in late February, so my pre-race trip to Mississippi actually allowed me to get in some nice long trail runs on dirt (no snow/ice) the week before the race. I also got to spend lots of time with my sister, brother-in-law and nephew; the most important thing. So on 3/1 I caught a late night flight from Gulfport back to Colorado, finally getting home at 2am after numerous delays and a dead car, ready for a whirlwind week of work before flying back down South only five days later.

Taking the little guy out for an ocean side jog on the beach walkway.

On 3/6, less than five days after I’d left the South, I was back on another plane, this time bound for New Orleans. All went smoothly on Friday, and Jerry (my savior in New Orleans) and I were sound asleep by 10pm. The alarm blared at the all too early hour of 4:15am, so I went about with my standard pre-race rituals, ate my two poptarts, then Jerry and I hopped in his car to head for the Desoto NF. Temperatures were a brisk 28F at the start, nothing abnormal for Colorado, but definitely chilly for Mississippi. After quickly catching up with the RDs Dennis and Renee, along with fellow Rocky Mountain Runner Jack and his dad Ed, it was almost go time. I really enjoy these small local races, there’s no big hoopla at the start, just a handful of family, friends and volunteers standing around in the cold morning air. As the ‘gun’ went off, three of us (Jack, Arthur, and myself) took off out front running a very comfortable 8min/mile, allowing our legs to settle in for the long haul. We chatted as we swapped leads, splashing through the many creek crossings, stomping in a few mud puddles, coming through the start/finish in 1:39:46 for the first 12mile lap, a little faster than I was planning, but comfortable none the less.

The three of us continued to leap frog back and forth during lap #2, returning back to the start/finish in 1:42:27, I quickly grabbed a few gels and blasted out of the aid area ahead of the other two. Jack caught me part way into lap #3 and we ran together until around mm32, where he pushed ahead. I was feeling a little off so I let him go, deciding to instead focus on holding steady and preparing for a strong finish through the last 13miles of the race. I came out of the third big loop in 1:48:17, having lost a little time, but still moving alright, now a few minutes behind Jack, but securely in 2^nd as we’d lost the rest of the pack after lap #2.

As I started into the first of two short 6.5mi loops, my energy dropped, my pace slipped to 9:30-10ish, and I knew I needed a little pick-me-up at the next aid station. I got in to the aid, slammed half a glass of coke, ate two snickers and chugged off down the trail. The temperature was still quite pleasant (high 50s) and this loop only had a half-dozen or so water crossings, so I continued to push onward. Finally around mm42 the caffeine and sugar kicked in, and my legs suddenly had a good bit of pop, back down to 8:30-9min pace and off I went. I hit the start/finish after a 58:17 loop, not bad considering the low I’d had, but found out I still had some work to do, I needed to run a 52min last loop (for <7hours) and to pick up 3min to catch Jack who was in the lead.

Celebrating the win with my sister and nephew, best High-fiver ever. Photo courtesy of Jamie Dubeck.

I flew out of start/finish a man on a mission, both for time and place. A mile down the trail another runner told me I was only 30seconds back! Holy hell, I was catching up fast, that really energized me, so I just put my head down and ran. I caught Jack just before the last aid station, he was looking pretty beat. I tried to give him some words of encouragement, but knew that if I wanted to hit 7hours I had to keep pushing. I put my head back down, embraced the pain and just kept moving my legs as fast as they would go. With 2miles left it became apparent that I wasn’t going to make sub-7hours (needed to run two 7min/miles), so I took it down a small notch, all the while glancing over my shoulder waiting for Jack to sneak back up on me. I finally made the last turn down the straight away with 1/4 mile to go, no one in sight, and knew the race was mine and even though I wouldn’t break 7hours, I’d PR by a massive margin.

I crossed the finish line in 7hours03min38sec (26min PR), having run a 54:49 final lap, very happy, very tired, and a little sore. Hugs from my family, who’d come for lap #3, high-fives from my 1yo nephew, and finally I could stop running. Jack came in at 7hours16min, for a very strong 50mile debut and 2^nd overall, giving the Rocky Mountain Runners from Boulder a 1-2 sweep on the men’s side. After three years of flat, muddy, wet running in the Mississippi forest, I’d finally had the race I’d hoped for. An even paced run, with a strong finish, where I felt like I gave the course everything I’d had on that day. The sun was shining and it was in the 60s, so I was happy to hang out with family and a few friends, enjoying the laid back atmosphere and the Southern hospitality. I’ve always been a big proponent of the homegrown low key races, put on by people who give so much of their time and energy simply because they love the sport and all the people in it. While I definitely pushed myself and competed on this day, Jack and I spent most of the miles in friendly conversation, and not until the last 15miles did we actually start racing and challenging one another. Ultrarunning is about pushing your physical and mental boundaries, but doing so in an environment where ALL runners support one another, regardless of pace, experience, or age, this is what makes it a truly special sport.

Jack and I after the run, Rocky Mountain Runners go 1-2 at the Mississippi50.

Last year I feel as though I had logged more fast hard training miles, but this year I trained smarter. Mixing in hard slow mountain miles with some faster paced tempo runs and my twice a week weight training sessions. As with many runners I suffer from Noassatall, it’s a terrible disease where you butt doesn’t do any work, letting your quads and hamstrings overwork, not a very efficient way to run. So a smart race plan, listening to my body during the race and a little weight lifting in training are what I felt made the difference for me this year compared to the last two years. So whatever your goal, train smarter, not just harder. Special thanks to Vfuel for supporting my craziness and powering my race (9 Vfuel and half a dozen snickers were all I ate). Run fast, run healthy, but mostly run happy.

Noassatall is a real disease, affecting real people, my friend Ginna at Boulder AcuSport has a nice write-up on the topic. Friends don’t let friends have a lazy ass.

One last shot of my nephew, I think I wore him out pretty good this weekend. He fell asleep PB&J in hand.

It’s been quite a while since my last writing and I figured the first order of business would be to write up some thoughts and share some photos from my one month trip down under (New Zealand and Australia). Rather than give a step by step outline of my journey, I’ll just mention some highlights, share a few photos/videos and make some comments about traveling down under. If you have specific questions about places to see, lodging, or logistics feel free to shoot me a message/email.

The view from Avalanche Peak near Arthur’s Pass. This is New Zealand.

Highlights

• Waitomo Glowworm Cave tubing (North Island)
• Ruakuri Bush Walk at Night, Glowworms (NorthIsland)
• Abel Tasman Great Walk in a Day (South Island -North)
• Arthur’s Pass/Avalanche Peak (South Island -West)
• Motukeikei Beach (South Island -West)
• Rob Roy Glacial Valley (South Island – Lakes Region)
• Routeburn Great Walk (South Island – Lakes Region)
• Kepler Track Great Walk in a Day (South Island – Fiordlands)
• Doubtful Sound Cruise (South Island – Fiordlands)
• Milford Sound Drive (South Island – Fiordlands)
• Little Blue and Yellow Eyed Penguins (YEPs) (South Island – East Coast)

Things I Missed Out On

• Auckland City Tour (North Island)
• Tongariro Northern Circuit (NorthIsland)
• Nelson Lakes/Roberts Ridge (South Island – Central)
• Dart and Reese Rivers (South Island – Lakes Region)
• Milford Track (South Island – Fiorlands)
• Stewart Island (South of the South Island)

Night time view of the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

On November 7^th, 2015 I decided to give myself a little 1/3 life crisis birthday present, a one month trip to New Zealand and Australia. I first stopped over in LA to visit my cousin, before flying off to Sydney for a few days to meet up with my parents and visit my Uncle Jim who lives a few hours south of the city. I flew down through Fiji on an all night flight, finally reaching Sydney in the morning. Sydney is a beautiful and very clean city, with a vibrant downtown, classic views like the Opera House, Harbour Bridge, and botanical gardens. The jacaranda trees were in full bloom, dotting the city skyline with their bright purple flowers. It is definitely an expensive city, but worth your time to soak in some of the culture and sample the cuisine. My uncle lives on the coast just South of Sydney, amongst several small townships; a much quieter scene, with a handful of shops, farmers markets, and some of the most amazing fish markets I’ve see (oh do I miss good seafood). Amongst the family time I got out for a few exploratory runs along Seven Mile Beach and in Royal National Park (w Ryan Stuart). This quick 3 day sample has convinced me I eventually need to come back to Australia for the full tour of the outback, the reefs, and some of the other cities.

Royal National Park near Sydney, 33km of beautiful coastline with Ryan.

We hopped a evening flight to Auckland, then promptly took off the following morning headed South, so we did not get to explore the big city of New Zealand, but that’s how I had planned it, too much to do, not enough time. Driving through the North Island lives up to its reputation, lots of rolling green grass, a fair bit of rain, and tons of sheep. The Waitomo glowworm caves, while touristy, are well worth the visit as its not something you can find anywhere else in the world. The best way to get up close and personal is actually the free Ruakuri bush walk, at night. At night this fairly typical walk through the jungle becomes a glowworm studded private tour, just check every overhang, every creek side, and every little cave you find. Unfortunately due to a stint of bad weather we missed out on the Tongariro crossing/Northern Circuit. In windy Wellington we met up with my old friend Shelley who escorted us around town. There is a wonderfully vibrant culinary scene in the city and I could have easily spent a few more days in there, but too many places to go and not enough time.

Hundreds of tiny glowworms dot the cliff sides along the Ruakuri Track.

Green hills, rivers, waterfalls and sheep, that’s New Zealand.

One of the many beautiful beaches along the Abel Tasman Track.

Next stop was Abel Tasman National Park along the North coast of the South Island. I ran the 55km Great Walk in a day with help from my parents (car shuttle pickup). It’s a beautiful track that meanders along high coastal cliffs, across beautiful stretches of beach and through some jungle as well. Easy water access at the huts, but make sure to time the tides carefully or you’ll be swimming through the Awaroa Inlet. Beware the sandflies though, they can be ravenous. We next headed to Nelson Lakes NP, but again got completely stormed off our intended route up Roberts Ridge. So we bolted for the West Coast, where the drizzle and clouds broke just long enough for us to spend a spectacular day at Arthur’s Pass (Avalanche Peak is a must) and an early morning tidal walk along Motukeikei Beach. I was a bit underwhelmed by the Fox and Franz Glaciers, but it’s such a quick stop that it’s worth seeing, the Fox more so.

Infamous Kea bird on Avalanche Peak

Low-tide walk on Motukeikei Beach, our own private tidal shelf and sea stacks.

Beautifully diverse array of lupine near Wanaka.

Our journey then took us up and over the rainy Haast Pass to the Lakes region of the South Island, specifically Wanaka and Wakatipu (Queenstown). This area has earned its reputation as an adventurer’s basecamp, with milder weather, but easy access to some fantastic trails and the mountains. I personally enjoyed Wanaka more, its much more laid back and quaint than the glitz, glamour and more touristy Queenstown. The highlights of our exploration were definitely the Rob Roy Glacial Valley and the Routeburn Great Walk. If heading for the Rob Roy Valley in early season, make sure your car can handle the several 6”-18” deep creek crossings, otherwise be prepared for a bit of extra walking. The Routeburn is a tricky one, as it’s a point to point with a 5 hour car shuttle. I opted to run 2/3 of the track to the Lake MacKenzie overlook, then turn around and head back, definitely doable as a day run in this manner, approx 34km.

Rob Roy Glacier Valley, massive cliffs, 1000ft waterfalls, hanging glaciers, wow.

Dart/Rees valleys, sheep and mountains, this is New Zealand.

Harris Lake, near the saddle on the Routeburn Track.

Running through the lush green down low on the Kepler Track. The high alpine was all snow this day.

I could easily have spent weeks in the Queenstown/Wanaka regions, but as it was we were soon off to Te Anau and Fiorlands where more adventure awaited. First up was a day run of the relatively new Kepler Track Great Walk, a line that traverses sandy beaches, deep green jungle, steep narrow valleys, then endless high ridgeline. I missed out on much of the views because of the snow storm up high (6-10” of new stuff). But the stark contrast of the route was still an amazing thing to experience. With a perfect sunny weather window dropping into Fiorlands we took a ferry ride across Lake Manupouri then hopped the Fiordland Navigator for an overnight cruise on Doubtful Sound. If you catch this area under decent weather its well worth the price of admission, and much quieter than its busier cousin Milford Sound. Towering seaside mountains, waterfalls in all directions, kayaking, fur seals, penguins, bottlenose dolphins and more. This was by far the highlight of my trip to New Zealand.

Kayaking in Doubtful Sound, makes one feel small.

Calm water reflections in Doubtful Sound, what a morning.

Waterfalls streaming down the cliffs above the Homer Tunnel, how many do you see?

My parents and I pre-Doubtful Sound cruise, sunshine in Fiordlands.

We spent the final few days of our trip winding down along the East Coast of the South Island, stopping in Dunedin to see hundreds of the Little Blue Penguins at the albatross sanctuary ($25), Katiki Lighthouse to see Yellow Eyed Penguins (YEPs), and just enjoying the coastline. Our final night was in Christchurch, a city very much in transition. The earthquakes of 2010-2011 ravaged the downtown, leveling most of its high rise buildings and damaging the historical structures. There is really no night life to speak of downtown, and very little to do, so it was a bit of  a downer, and I until it revives itself I wouldn’t recommend spending too much time there. So ended my one month tour down under, on a somber note.

Fiordlands Crested Penguins, Little Blue Penguins and Yellow Eyed Penguins

Final Thoughts

We (3) opted not to get a camper van, instead we rented a smaller Nissan Wingroad hatchback and ended up staying mostly in hostels and cabins with the occasional night of tent camping. Personally I think this worked out better, as the driving was much easier in the smaller vehicle, we could dry out wet gear at night, and it ended up costing about the same (camper van vs hatchback + hostels). We didn’t reserve any of our lodging, but we were early enough in the season that the only place we had any issues were Queenstown and Christchurch. Most hostels, holiday parks, and developed campgrounds have pots, pans and utensils for one to use. If you plan to stay in more DOC campgrounds then you’ll need your own gear, but they still have cooking shelters and sometimes also gas stoves.

New Zealand pie shops, lamb, beef, chicken, and all the savory one could want. Standard fair.

We went during their early summer (Nov), it was a bit colder, a bit rainier, but the crowds were much smaller. January and February tend to be warmer, but you’ll need to plan a head a bit more than we did. In regards to the itinerary, I’d highly recommend staying flexible and allowing yourself as much time in a priority location as you can. We found out quickly that the weather is very unpredictable, so look at the forecasts and pick your weather windows, otherwise you’ll end up in a downpour or gale force winds, not so fun. But when it’s nice, OH IS IT NICE! If you’re an outdoors adventurer, the South Island is where you want to be; mountains, jungle, glaciers, beaches, trails, climbing, swimming, etc.

What you’ll find yourself doing a lot, staring at the Awesomeness that is New Zealand.

For planning we didn’t have much of a set itinerary, but did use a combination of Lonely Planet and New Zealand Frenzy. I think some of the most fun things we did came out of the off-the-beaten-path New Zealand Frenzy guide, well worth the $10 price tag. Lastly, for those who have traveled the US, you won’t find many things in New Zealand that you can’t see somewhere else; we have big mountains, we have subtropical rainforest, we have glaciers…., its more that New Zealand has all this and more within a days (or less) drive, creating a beautiful contrast of scenery. This doesn’t mean the sights aren’t worth seeing, rather to just enjoy New Zealand for what it is, and the Kiwi way about it. While there are several items noted above I missed out on, I’d have to say I’m not sure if I’ll ever return to New Zealand. Not that I wouldn’t love to, but more that there are so many other places I’ve never visited and explored it’d be hard to set aside the time again, but maybe…..

Here are my compilation videos from the month’s adventures.

• Abel Tasman Coastal Track in a Day
• West Coast (South Island)
• Wanaka Region
• Queenstown and Routeburn Track
• Kepler Track in a Day
• Doubtful Sound Cruise and Milford Sound Drive

In the Spring of 2014 during our weekly night run (Boulder Trail Runners, Wed 8:30pm) Jason was quizzing me on what I thought were the best ‘first time’ 100mile races out there. I’ve run and/or paced at 12 different 100mile races, and at the top of my list as being recommended for first timers are Bighorn 100 and the Bear 100. Both are phenomenal courses, though challenging, with a mix of hike-able terrain and smoother single track, great aid stations and support and a generous final cutoff time. The seed had been planted, and Jason was intrigued, but being a working family man with two young girls he wasn’t sure if he could commit the time necessary to train for something as big as 100miles. I promised him ‘If you sign up for the Bear, I’ll come pace you’…….

June came and went, July rolled around and it was Hardrock time, after that I settled into my typical summer pattern of some maintenance runs during the week and big adventure runs in the Colorado Rockies on the weekends. On one of these adventures, the Ten Mile Traverse near Breckenridge, Jason let me know that he was feeling good about training and thus was going to sign up for the Bear 100. He was calling me out on my promise to pace him, and I couldn’t say no to being a part of such a wonderful and challenging journey.

Scott and Jason cruising across the mellow part of the Ten Mile Range

September finally rolled around and it was go time, after a quick meeting with Jason and his wife Meggan the plan was set, Meggan and Karen (Jason’s sister) would do much of the crewing and I’d pace the final 49miles of the course. All Jason had to do was keep moving, easier said than done when you’re talking about 28-36hours and 100miles with 22000ft of elevation gain.

Erin Gibbs and I bailed out of Denver on Thursday afternoon and booked it for the Utah border, we wouldn’t see our runners until mm30 as we were planning to sleep in a bit. Friday morning (race day) was beautifully clear and quite hot, which made us hopeful that the 60% chance of precip forecast for Saturday would not materialize, but by the time we left the condo to head on course, the weather report read 80%…..rain was coming.

Jason making his way into Cowley at mm30.

Gibbs, Chris and I packed up and headed onto the course to cheer on our runners as we waited our respective turns to start pacing. All three of our runners Misti (Chris), Jason (me) and Mark (Gibbs) looked good coming into the aid stations at miles 30, 37 and 45. Jason had gone out at a very comfortable pace and was moving strong, just what I wanted to see him do the first 50miles. Karen joined him from mm37-mm45 while Meggan joined him from mm45-mm51. This gave me a chance to get my $%&* together for the long night ahead, a 49mile jaunt from sunset through sunrise all the way to the finish.

Meggan, Jason and Karen jogging into Temple Fork. Meggan about to start pacing, Karen finishing up pacing.

The course this year was absolutely stunning, the aspens were a vibrant mixture of green, yellow, orange and red, the maples looked like they’d exploded in flames and so far only a few drops of rain had fallen….little did we know what was coming. Karen and I waited at Tony Grove for Meggan and Jason as darkness began to envelope the mountains. We watch Misti and Chris come through, then friends Kristel and Rob…finally we heard Jason’s voice, it was go time. We loaded up and headed off up the hill into the darkness. Our cruise up and over into Franklin Basin was fairly uneventful, just a few sprinkles and some distant flashes of lightning, but that all changed as we headed up and over the hill to the Logan River AS.

First rain storm of the night around midnight, all geared up and having fun.

Then we realized that rain meant mud, sticky, slippery mud….mm56.

Around 1am a steady rain began to fall, and we watched from the safety of the aid station, trying to decide if this was here to stay. Jason and I both devoured some of the most delicious grilled cheese sandwiches and soup we’d tasted before setting off on the now wet trail. As we hiked up the hill toward Beaver Mountain the rain subsided, but our formerly dusty trail had been turned into several inches of slick and clumpy mud, it was going to be a long night.

We made good time downhill, but Jason’s shin (tibialis anterior tendonitis) was really starting to bother him when we ran. Finally the lights of the ski lodge came into view and we jogged the final bit to the lodge door, greeted by the musty smell of dirty sweaty runners. The scene in the ski lodge is always somewhat depressing, people passed out in every corner, exhausted runners with their heads between their knees, and way too much negative energy. Meggan set to work on Jason’s shin, Karen refilled his pack/gear and I went into a frenzy finding Jason and myself some food to eat. I didn’t want him to hang around here longer than absolutely necessary. We finally got all our stuff in order and set off back into the early morning hours, it would be ten miles before the crew again, and it would turn out to be a LONG ten miles.

We briskly power hiked up the jeep road, and admittedly I began to get a little sleepy (having been awake for almost 20hours), but was rudely awakened by the light rain that began to fall. The rain picked up and it was at this point that it became very apparent Jason had left his waterproof jacket with the crew and was only sporting a wind breaker. As the rain picked up I realized we needed to get to the Gibson Basin AS in a hurry. We pushed the last 1/2mile into the meager aid station where 6-8 runners were already huddled under the small tarps as the wind and rain pounded the surroundings, many were soaked, several were contemplating dropping, and I knew if I couldn’t keep Jason semi-dry and warm-ish until we reached crew he might be in danger of this as well.

Jason and other runner hunkered down under our small tarp at Gibson Basin as the rain pounds us. No one was dry, but the Aid Station workers were still awesome.

Jason threw on my rain pants, stripped off his soaking wet wind breaker in exchange for his insulated layer (not waterproof) and threw on a garbage bag I’d rustled up from the aid station. I told him to eat some soup and to drink some water, because once we started moving we weren’t going to break until we reached the next aid station. Another runner Jeff hooked on with us and we shuffled off into the rainy night. The dirt road was flooded, everything not under water was covered in slippery mud and the wind blew the rain sideways. We finally hit the small climb that marked the last mile into the Beaver Campground, and the driving rain became a light drizzle. We felt much better about our situation, as we’d survived the cold damp night in ok shape.

Cruising through the changing fall colors between Beaver Campground and Ranger Dip, its a muddy mess.

We jogged down the slick as snot mud into the AS, apparently Meggan and Karen didn’t recognize us, so I made a beeline for the car, slamming my face into the passenger’s side door, they both let out a loud shriek of terror, success, they knew we had arrived 🙂 The drama was over, so we changed into some dry clothing, restocked our food and water and quickly headed back out on the trail.

Jason’s original goal was a sub-30h finish, and we were gonna have to push it to make the time (15miles in 4.25h). Jason’s shin had gotten worse and it was causing him pretty severe pain on the flats and downhills. I told him that if he hung with me I’d get us to that finish line as quick as possible, but it was gonna hurt, and the only way to make the hurt stop was to finish. We pushed on to Ranger Dip, made a very quick and efficient pit stop and were soon headed up the final 800ft climb. As we started the big descent into Fish Haven Jason’s shin began to scream in pain with every step. I pushed him onward, not sure how best to distract him from the obvious misery.

Meggan, Jason and I jogging into the finish of the Bear 100. Photo by Karen Oliver.

The rain descended back onto us, turning a normally steep dusty downhill into a flowing river of greasy mud, some of the toughest and nastiest conditions I’ve ever encountered on a trail. My semi-fresh legs were struggling to slip and slide down the hill, Jason’s tired and aching legs were obviously not fairing as well. I did my best to urge Jason on through the slippery mud and the painful shin injury. Near the bottom we caught up to Chris and finally hit the dirt road that led into town. A huge wave of relief came over us all, we had 45min to do less than 2miles, and boy did we relish being back on that smooth dirt road. We finally crossed the highway, picked up Meggan and Karen for our final jog across the line. At 29h36min Jason finished his first 100miler; tired, muddy, a little water logged but very excited to have completed our journey, especially considering all the adversity the course had provided. Our condo went 4 for 4 on that day; with Misti, Kendrick, Jason and Mark all finishing. I was also excited to see many other friends tough it out to the finish; congrats to Ted, Jon, Nate, Bryon, Gavin, Jorge, Wendy, Ellen and all the finishers of the 2014 Bear 100, you truly earned this one.

Runners and pacers relishing in a hard earned finish. Just awaiting Mark (who finished). Photo by Karen Oliver.

It’s 100miler season in the Rocky Mountain West and with many races on tap for the next month I figured I’d right up a few thoughts on what makes a good pacer (in my eyes). In my eight years of ultrarunning I’ve finished seven different 100mile races and paced another successful 15-20, so these are just some thoughts I’ve gleened from pacing people of all different abilities from top ten to pushing the cutoffs.

For those unfamiliar with the ultramarathon scene, in most 100mile races the runner is allowed to have someone accompany them, a Pacer, for the latter 50-60% of the course. This ‘Pacer’ can be a friend, family member, random person picked up at the race or in one’s home town, but no matter who they are there main goal is to help get the runner to the finish line as quick as possible and in one piece.

1. As a Pacer you are more than just someone who follows and/or runs alongside the runner; you are a baby sitter, a navigator, an entertainer, a motivator and most of all a friend. Remember, you’re there to HELP your runner.
2. Take care of yourself. While you are there to help your runner get across that finish line, you’re of no use if you don’t take care of yourself along the way, remember to eat, drink, and bring plenty of warm/dry clothes. If you’re suffering it’s going to drag your runner down.
3. Be attentive to your runner, because they may not always be attentive to themselves. Before you start out it’s helpful to learn about their plan/strategy. How often do they eat/drink, what is their intended pace, do they like to run in front or have you lead the way, are they stronger uphill or downhill, how do they deal with the dark and sleep deprivation? All of these questions are something to be aware of, because as the miles pile up, your runner will often become less cognizant of their own well being and one of your duties is to act as the baby sitter and make sure they stay on task.
   

   Pacer and wife offering a post-race massage to a successful Leadville 100 finisher.

4. Know their limits, and keep them on pace. We all have grand ideas of how well our first 100miler will go, sometimes that’s shooting for a big/silver belt buckle, others its simply to finish in one piece. Know what your runner’s goal is, and only push them as appropriate toward this, run their pace NOT YOURS. It’s a long race, and sometimes they need reminding that one doesn’t need to run 8min/miles if their goal is to simply finish. On the converse, as a Pacer you should know all the cutoffs, and make sure your runner always stays ahead of these.
5. Eat Eat Eat. A 100miler is a long race, and while a select few can do it on gels and liquids alone, >95% of us need to eat some good hearty calories along the way. Some things I’ve found to work well are; soups, potatoes, cashews/almonds, pasta, turkey & avocado wraps and of course bacon! Now, you don’t want to have them sit down for a four course meal, but 400-600 calories of this every few hours in addition to regular fueling should do the trick. If they are feeling nauseous and don’t want to eat, insist they must. Throwing up is about the same as not eating, so keep trying until you find something that works, that’s your job as a pacer, do what’s best for the runner, even if they hate you for it. NOTE: We are all different, and food choices are a very individual thing, ask your runner first.
   

   Hardrock 100 Aid Station fair, plus >20lbs of bacon and otter pops. Don’t skip out, chow down!

6. Don’t skimp, carry some extra ‘just in case’ items. As a pacer your job isn’t to carry as little gear as you can possibly get away with, it’s to make sure you’re prepared for whatever time/pace/illness crops up during the race. Remember, you’ll most likely be moving slower than you’re used to, as you’re runner has put in at least 50miles more than you. A few items I like to carry are; tums, gasX, aspirin, fennel seeds (calm upset stomachs), ginger chews (good for stomachs), disposable hand warmers, caffeine pills and an extra flashlight/batteries.
   

   Pacer at the Leadville 100 carrying both her own pack AND her runner’s pack. Muling is allowed at Leadville.

7. Light the Way. By the time night falls during a 100mile race most runners are getting tired and a little delirious. As a pacer you can be most helpful by bringing a bright flashlight/headlamp and lighting the way. Make sure to spot course markings and to stay on route, this saves the runner a ton of mental energy as they can simply focus on moving and ‘following the leader’. Make sure you have new batteries and/or extras. NOTE: Make sure your light has AT LEAST 100lumens of power; I like the Petzl Myo RXP/Tikka RXP plus a Fenix E21 for my pacing duties.
   

   Hey look, course markings! A good headlamp is very helpful, 2012 IMTUF 100.

8. Know the Course. I’m not saying that you need to know every turn, but you should at least know the distances between aid stations and the general race profile. I like to print out a small table (often from the race website) that has these stats on it. Both while crewing and pacing it’s very helpful to reminder your runner when they have especially long or arduous sections coming up. Once again you’re the babysitter 🙂
9. Don’t Let Them Drop Because “It’s Hard”. There are plenty of valid reasons to drop from a 100mile race; risk of serious injury, dangerous conditions on course or to personal well being, pulled due to missing cutoffs, but if I’m pacing you the “I’m tired” excuse or “My legs hurt” isn’t gonna fly, these are both  part of the game. Being tired and/or sleepy is part of running 100miles, so keep on pushing, if you are truly too tired to stay on your feet, then take a short nap. Secondly, muscles are gonna hurt and sometimes you’ll have a few sore joints, time to toughen up and keep on moving. Lastly, sometimes your runner’s stomach will turn south, in that case there are several things a pacer can do; get them to try ginger, tums, fennel seeds or a host of other natural aids, all of which can help settle an upset stomach. And if it’s really bad, stop your runner IN an aid station, sit them down to rest and try to eat and settle the stomach. Sometimes a break is necessary, but as a pacer, never let them quit at the first sign of adversity. It doesn’t always get worse….in fact it will often get better.
   

   When you gotta sleep, you gotta sleep. 2010 Wasatch 100, snoring in 5sec.

10. Lastly, Have Fun.  Remind yourself and your runner that we do this for fun! They signed up and paid good money for this sufferfest, so they might as well enjoy it. Some runners like to move in silence, others enjoy the jokes and comraddry of a pacer, so know their style and be a distraction from the surrounding difficulties, it’ll help them mentally.
    

    Sometimes you just need a little Turtle Power to lighten the mood. TMNT at the 2012 IMTUF 100. Photo by LongRun Photography.

Best of luck to all those racing in the upcoming weeks at; Wasatch, Tor de Geants, Run Rabbit Run, Pine to Palm, IMTUF, The Bear, and all the other races I’ve forgotten.

Disclaimer: This list solely represents my views and opinions on pacing 100mile running races, you may not agree with any or all of what I’ve said above, and that’s ok.